


wasting days with you

by strong



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Criminal Louis, Fluff, M/M, Photography, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:37:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strong/pseuds/strong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Coming in with a casual step and lazy uni student attire is a guy with a face Zayn’s got imprinted on his brain. Sullen cheeks, shifty eyes, loose tufts of brown hair falling over them from below his hood. He strolls past the front counter and down one of the aisles, checking everything out as if he doesn’t come in often enough to have it memorized.</i>
</p>
<p><i>“Need help, mate?” Zayn asks. It’s a part of their routine.</i> I’m good, but..</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m good, but I’ll let you know,” the guy smiles at him, the grin never reaching his shaded eyes.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>a tragically beautiful boy with blue eyes frequently steals from the store zayn works at, and zayn isn't sure what he wants to do more: help the guy out or kiss his heavenly face</p>
            </blockquote>





	wasting days with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunnybun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnybun/gifts).



> based on [sunnybun's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnybun) prompt: _"Zayn works at a grocery store and Louis comes in and steals food and Zayn sees but doesn't ever say anything but then Louis gets caught and gets banned from the store but Zayn sees him outside one day trying to goad someone into going in and buying him some cereal and Zayn's like "I'll do it" and ends up buying him like two bags of groceries and Louis is like "i cant take this" and zayn is like "you're gonna starve please take them" and that's how they fall in love is Zayn bringing Louis groceries to his terrible apartment every week and Louis is a photography student and Zayn is his muse"_
> 
> i took the general idea of the prompt but gave it a twist that made it a bit more unique and personal, hope you don't mind.
> 
> this took a long while to write considering all the obstacles that suddenly popped up near the due date, but here it is now! i hope you all enjoy it and if you spot any problems, please let me know so i can fix them!

As his watch flips to ten o’clock, signalling the official start of his shift, Zayn waits. Standing behind the counter of the corner market with tired eyes and a tabloid splayed out in front of him, he counts each second; one, two, three. Right on cue, the bell above the front door chimes and in comes Zayn’s favorite customer, for lack of a better word.

Coming in with a casual step and lazy uni student attire is a guy with a face Zayn’s got imprinted on his brain. Sullen cheeks, shifty eyes, loose tufts of brown hair falling over them from below his hood. He strolls past the front counter and down one of the aisles, checking everything out as if he doesn’t come in often enough to have it memorized.

“Need help, mate?” Zayn asks. It’s a part of their routine. _I’m good, but.._

“I’m good, but I’ll let you know,” the guy smiles at him, the grin never reaching his shaded eyes.

So Zayn nods and thinks _called it_ before going back to his in depth magazine reading of some fashion shows in Paris and one of the Kardashians’ new pregnancy announcement. It doesn’t interest him at all, but it gives something to do until four when he gets off. This shift is the absolute worst. It flips around his sleeping schedule and forces him to be trapped alone in a place where any sketchy passerby can just waltz in with a gun or who knows what else. Then again, he _does_ get the opportunity to stare at the current odd customer in amusement, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

In the middle of a paragraph about why kale is all the rage lately, Zayn hears a quiet crackling noise. It’s the same kind you hear when you pull a desert sweet from the box at home and try to stuff it under your shirt before your mum catches you out of bed. Zayn lifts his gaze without taking his chin off his palm. He immediately sees Shifty Eyes not-so-subtly zipping his parka’s pocket and slowly walking away from where Zayn knows the gummy packages are hung. He smirks then looks back down, acting like he saw nothing at all. 

All of this started about a month ago. Never had he even seen this guy before, not during his day shift, while on the tube, or even lurking around his university campus. There was no sign of his existence until one night when he came in wearing black skinny jeans and a black hoodie, the most stereotypical outfit of an amateur thief. At the time, Zayn was doing exactly what he is now. Heavily leaning on the counter, he almost lost his balance when he caught sight of the stranger. Honestly, Zayn almost called out to the thief that black should only be worn during nighttime heists, not in fluorescently lit robberies, but instead he turned a blind eye to the man’s acts. Zayn’s not even sure what he stole that first time because he didn’t look up until the door chimed and he was alone once again. 

As the thief approaches the line of drinks along the back wall, Zayn fakes sorting out the cash register. He pulls the tray out and starts shuffling money around and accidentally dropping some on the ground, giving the guy enough time to make his great escape with his arms full of milk and mini cereal boxes and jacket pockets stuffed full of instant noodles and candy. 

Once the store is silent, Zayn just huffs out a small laugh and puts the bills back where they belong. The fluorescent light flickers above his head at the same time his watch changes to 10:06. The stranger’s making good time, he notes. His previous record was seven minutes but now he’s managed to skim a whole sixty seconds off. Zayn hopes that whatever meal he gets to make tonight is worth the work.

 

▲ ▼

 

The next week, Zayn takes it upon himself to help Shifty – which he’s now resorted to calling him – out. Rather than silently sitting back and letting the security waters of the shop be tested by toes clad in dirty Adidas, he’ll take action. He’s already obviously on the guy’s side over the store’s. Honestly, there’s nothing he could do that would be any worse than letting him repeatedly get away with theft by mismarking the stock. Well, except for this, of course.

With a crumpled note stuffed in the front pocket of his jeans, he goes into the dreary store and heads straight towards the gummies. There are tons of options and no way to tell which is the usual target for the thief. So, Zayn decides to wrap the slip of paper around the handle of the fridge where the milk is stored instead. This way, when Shifty opens it, hopefully he’ll touch or catch sight of it and read the important information it withholds about how to stay out of view of the security cameras. 

Normally the footage is never reviewed. The only time in Zayn’s experience here that his boss, Nick, has bothered to look back at it was when an older woman came in and demanded one of the other clerks gave her all the money in the register. It was a ridiculous attempt considering she wore no disguise and had no weapon, and she failed miserably. She escaped empty handed and Nick grumbled the whole time as he got all the employees together and told them to look out for her if she were to ever come back. She hasn’t since.

In his respective place once again, Zayn waits. He’s always waiting it seems. Really, there’s no explanation for his infatuation with watching the same act once a week. Maybe it’s because it gives an entertaining twist to his otherwise miserable time working here. Each Thursday, he wakes up from his nightly nap with the anxious feeling in his chest about walking down to a corner shop to stand behind a counter for six hours. An oddly delightful mean of pleasure.

Shifty walks in on the dot this time. Tonight he’s gone for a more classy look: skinny jeans and a sweatshirt. This may not be an important enough run for his regular parka. It’s got multiple pockets from what Zayn’s seen, so it’s a perfect tool for robbery.

“You need any help?” Zayn calls out.

A polite smile. “Nah, man. I’m fine, but I’ll let you know.” 

“Alright.”

A package of candy later, Zayn stares intently as he approaches the milk door. He wraps a small hand around the handle then quickly retracts it. He slowly looks down and sees the note then grabs it. He opens it and Zayn scratches his bicep as Shifty finishes reading it, showing no sign of emotion as of yet. There’s a second where he folds the note and drops it in the pocket of his sweatshirt. Then, finally, he turns around and meets Zayn’s eyes with confusion. The only semblance of eventual understanding that he shows is a tiny tight-lipped smile directed at Zayn who shyly returns it. 

Shifty discreetly clocks his eyes around the store looking for the cameras Zayn warned him of. Once he finds them, he continues on his mission, cleverly hiding the candy and small milk carton out of sight and walking in a path that majorly hides him from view. Zayn doesn’t bother ducking away this time.

“Have a nice night!” He says happily as Shifty plans his departure.

“Oh.. yeah, you too,” he says weakly in response, obviously not used to being addressed apart from their initial two part conversation.

_Mission accomplished_ , Zayn hums as he unfolds the newest magazine and delves into a world he couldn’t care less about. 

 

▲ ▼

 

“Liam, you’re not listening to me,” Zayn sighs.

“Yes I am! You just said you helped a criminal out and you have no problems with it,” Liam continues griping on the cushion beside him. 

“I did, but I was _trying_ to explain that I don’t think he has money for food. That’s why he steals it.”

Zayn is at his best mate Liam’s house. It’s much cleaner and nicer than the flat Zayn stays in but then again, Liam lives with his rich girlfriend too while Zayn fends completely for himself. The white walls are soaked with the artificial scent of coconut and roses. An unusual mix, but a classy enough sounding candle for the high end folk to buy up and light in every room of their posh homes. 

“He could be spending all of his money on drugs, you never know.” Why is he even bothering to tell Liam about this?

“ _I_ spend all of my money on drugs,” Zayn notes with a dead look at Liam.

“But you just get weed. He could be getting all those LSD strips and cocaine and-”

“Okay, this conversation is over,” Zayn interrupts. “You don’t even know what you’re fucking talking about now.”

Liam frowns. “I didn’t mean to make you mad, I just don’t want you to get in trouble for someone you don’t even know. You have no idea what his ulterior motives could be or why he’s actually stealing from the place."

"Alright, but is it so bad to give him the benefit of the doubt? It's not like I'd be heartbroken to get fired anyways. Why not make the most of my time there and maybe help someone out in the process?"

"I— fine," Liam sighs. "Keep doing it then, I don't care."

"Thanks for understanding," Zayn smiles sarcastically before Liam whacks his bicep and they laugh.

"So is there a reason you told me about this or..?" Liam asks. Zayn smiles maliciously now and Liam lowers his gaze. "What is that face? I don't trust it."

"Well, Liam, I don't want Shifty to get caught and banned from the store," Zayn explains. "He's too good looking to rot in jail. But back on topic, I was wanting to surprise him and bring like, some groceries to his place."

"Okay.."

"And I don't know where he lives."

"Okay.. what does that have to do with me?" Liam furrows his thick eyebrows and stares at Zayn curiously.

Zayn rubs his thighs and turns to further face Liam. He's not sure how Liam will take his plan. This is basically a test of their friendship to see the extent Liam is willing to go for Zayn's happiness in making someone _else_ happy.

"See, I can't ask him because then it wouldn't be a surprise, and _I_ can't follow him because I have work every time he comes in." 

Liam is smarter than he appears and catches on fairly quick to what Zayn is implying.

"I'm not following him to his house. No," Liam states firmly, giving Zayn a warning glare. "I know that's what you're getting at and I refuse to get arrested for stalking some stranger."

Zayn shakes his head. "It's not stalking him, it's just finding out where he lives. I'm not, like, planning to _murder_ him, I just want to bring him groceries."

"Couldn't you have a bag ready for when he comes in? Just give it to him before he steals something and he'd still be pretty surprised I'd think."

Reasonably speaking, Zayn could do that. It's a decent plan and it would prevent another unnecessary theft from Shifty. But for some reason, he just can't get himself to do something so quick and easy. He wants to have the chance to talk to the boy, have some sort of exchange more than five words long and maybe get something out of it rather than Shifty leaving with or without the groceries and never returning.

"He probably wouldn't accept them, Liam, then what would I do? Maybe he'd decide to never come back and I'd never see him again, which would be a shame because he's got a very nice face," Zayn admits with a frown. Liam stares blankly at him and purses his lips.

"If I do this do you promise to never drag me into one of your heroic scandals ever again?" Liam asks, or pleads, twisting his fingers together and rubbing his knuckles. Zayn's eyes light up and he nods eagerly, pleasantly surprised that Liam's given into his will so easily.

"I swear I'll leave you alone. You're incredible," Zayn smirks, sitting up to pull Liam into a big hug. He pats his friends' back multiple times as Liam mumbles _"yeah, yeah"_ into his shoulder.

 

▲ ▼

 

So as the time rolls around for Zayn's plan to be put into action, Zayn goes over the guidelines for what Liam has to do. They're stood behind the counter of the shop because no one's around to tell him off for having a friend keeping him company. Luckily they can't tell him off for helping someone commit theft either.

"He'll be in here any minute now so just go stand by the crisps or something. When he leaves, don't make it too obvious that you're following him because he may call the cops or beat you up, I don't know. He's small but he seems like he could pack a pretty punch if he needed to," Zayn explains to Liam who is half-listening as his eyes start to close. Zayn snaps in his face, laughing when he jumps and opens his eyes wide. "Wake up and get in place, man, you can sleep in a little bit."

"If he kills me will you tell Sophia I love her," Liam says, his voice gravelly and deep.

He pops out from behind the counter and slowly drags himself into place. Zayn still talks to him freely, ignoring the people who stop in that aren’t Shifty. Eventually, at fifteen minutes after ten, Zayn sees the familiar figure approach the glass front door. He quickly whispers at Liam that it’s him and then goes back to reading his magazine, trying to seem as casual as ever.

To his shock, a shadow appears over the article and when he glances up, his eyes immediately meet bright blue ones. Shifty is standing right in front of Zayn, empty handed and with his lips pulled into his mouth.

“Uh, hello,” Zayn says, straightening his posture. He gives a panicked eye at Liam and then focuses on the admittedly beautiful boy in front of him again. “Do you need help?”

“You’ve already given me enough help, haven’t you?” He smirks, a menacing quirk of the lips. He’s much nicer looking at this distance and a lot brighter without a hood pulled loosely over his head. 

“I guess you could say that, yeah,” Zayn nods with a small smirk of his own. “Is that why you’re up here then? Need some more tips and tricks on how to get out of here unscathed?”

Shifty laughs and licks his lips. It's in this moment that Zayn's chest tightens and he wishes he weren't in a crummy polo right now, but instead dressed and done up to his finest. There's no explanation for why he feels such an intense desire to impress this young crook. Maybe deep down he’s got a thing for guys behind bars.

“Actually, no,” Shifty starts. “I had two questions for you. The first is why are you helping me in the first place instead of turning me in? I mean, I’m not the slickest crook in the business. I know how easy it’d be to get some proof and get me locked up for stealing some milk and Haribo.”

Zayn ponders over the question for a moment, sorting through ways to word it. “If you’re willing to risk jail time over some milk and Haribo, clearly you need them more than I need a pat on the back from the owner.” Zayn laughs and shrugs. “And it’s fun to watch you anyways. It gives me a reason to drag myself here and not step in front of a bus.”

This gets a nice small cackle from the strange man which makes Zayn pep up a little. “Fair enough. Now, the second question is a bit more serious.”

“More serious than robbery?”

“Much,” Shifty nods with a grin.

“Can I get your name then at least? I’m tired of calling you Shifty in my head,” Zayn admits before he can ask the question.

“Oh, yeah, I’m Louis. Good to meet ya,” Louis nods with a sharp smile. “How about you? Got some common petrol station worker name like Randy or Jack?”

“It’s Zayn,” he returns with a smile.

Louis curves his lips downwards and shrugs one shoulder. “Not sure if that fits in those standards, but I like it,” he nods, shifting his body left to right. “Anyways, back to my question. Long story short– I’m a photography student, right, and I’ve got a final project due next week. I haven’t started on it because all of my friends are assholes and don’t want me to take pictures of them, but, to be quite blunt, you’re incredibly good looking and would do much better than them anyways. So I was wondering if you’d want to be a model for me maybe? Like, nothing too fancy, just a quick shoot in my flat.”

Zayn looks over Louis and meets Liam’s questioning eyes from where he stands a few feet away. Apparently he’s been listening to the entire exchange because he mouths _what the hell_ before gesturing towards Louis’ back.

Ignoring Liam's obvious hesitance, Zayn is flattered. All this time he’s thought Louis was a beautiful creature and as it turns out, Louis thinks the same about him. If he played his cards right with this maybe they could become a duo strong enough to overpower the world with their charming personalities and dashing faces. Then reality crashes back down and he realizes that Louis is still standing there waiting for a response.

“We don’t even know each other and you’re inviting me to your place for a photoshoot?” Zayn asks, to be sure he heard him correctly.

“Yes. I won’t kill you as long as you don’t kill me,” Louis smiles. He’s turning out to be much livelier and, dare Zayn say, cheekier than he seemed before.

“I guess I could do that then. Yeah, sure. I’ll be your model,” Zayn says as Liam shakes his head in disapproval.

Louis’ eyes light up. “Sick! Here, what’s your number,” he asks as he whips his phone out of his pocket then shoves it over to Zayn. “Just enter your stuff and I’ll text you with the info and everything later.”

“Alright,” Zayn says quietly as he fills out the contact info. As he’s typing, he sees another body appear beside him and glances up to see Liam, arms crossed and smiling at Louis.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I just needed to tell Zayn that I’m going now since he apparently doesn’t need my help anymore,” Liam says as Zayn hands back Louis’ phone.

“I appreciate your original willingness at least,” Zayn grins, nudging Liam's buff bicep with his shoulder. Liam just hums.

“Yeah, well have a good night then. I’ll talk to you later,” Liam says, making direct eye contact with Zayn that shows he wants to talk about Louis.

He starts heading around towards the front door and waves one last time at Zayn while Louis stands awkwardly waiting for the exchange to be over. Zayn says a goodbye as the bell chimes and the door slams shut again, the glass vibrating in it’s place.

“That a friend of yours?” Louis asks with his eyebrows raised like he’s the old pal and Liam is some mystery that Zayn’s never told him about.

“Yeah. He hangs around here sometimes during my shift,” Zayn lies easily, trying to avoid spilling the real reason Liam was here.

“Ah,” Louis breathes. there’s a beat of silence where neither of them say anything. The light above flickers quickly a few times before Louis speaks back up. “Alright, well I don’t need anything else, so I’ll be on my way too then.”

“Cool. I’ll be.. here still. Obviously,” Zayn says awkwardly, wanting to cringe as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Luckily Louis seems to find it endearing and he grins, licking over his bottom lip before slowly backing away from the counter. “You’re far less intimidating than I thought you’d be. Those tattoos are all apart of a tough façade.”

“Well you aren’t as creepy or sad as I thought you’d be after all those night of you slinking around in a giant parka with the hood over your head,” Zayn retaliates.

“Christ, I’m offended. I’m just a poor uni student, not a _crackhead_ , Zayn,” Louis bites with an offended palm placed over his heart.

“You never know, bro.”

“True. I’ll give you that one. But I’ve really gotta go now before they lock the building and I’ve got to buzz Harry to let me in,” Louis grumbles, shaking his head. “He goes to sleep too early. I’ll talk to you later, my literal partner in crime.”

Zayn was never one to believe in fate. He'll paint galaxies and doodle stars on his own skin to no end, but it'd be impossible to think that he believes in any obscure higher power such as fate itself. Everything happens because it happens. That’s what he’s always said. But for some reason, standing here, hearing Louis talk about them being partners in crime and watching him leave the store, there’s a hint of belief sparking inside of him that this was meant to be somehow.

 

▲ ▼

 

It’s late Saturday afternoon when Zayn gathers up two bags of various groceries taken from his no-name workplace and sets out for the address Louis texted him. They’ve been talking constantly for over a week now, joking around and getting to know the tiniest pieces of info about each other such as middle names or favorite colors (William and gold). Louis stopped by the store again at his regular time on Thursday and stayed to chat a bit before heading out with just a package of gummy bears in his pocket and a grin on his face directed towards Zayn.

It’s getting mildly warmer out as June nears. Once out on the street, Zayn takes a moment to enjoy the serene state of the outside world. The sun is starting to set, turning the sky a blur of orange and pink. All around him are Birds chirping, the faint smell of nearby pastries, tree branches swaying as their newly blossomed flowers drop petals along the pavement. He let's his eyes fill with wonder then gets in his car and sets off towards his destination, more eager to see Louis and surprise him than to frolic through a field of daisies.

In all honesty, Louis' flat is close enough for Zayn to have walked. Seeing as he has groceries though, it put a damper on strolling through the streets. In no time, he pulls up to the front of a decent looking building that's presumably the one Louis is a resident of. Zayn triple checks just to be sure.

One lift greets him in the tiny corridor just inside the front door. The button doesn't glow upon pressing it and there's no indication of when the lift is arriving until the door creaks and slides open. Inside, a similar plain wall of buttons greet him. He presses _4_ and resituates his grasps on the handles of the plastic bags as he slowly travels up, up, up, _ding._

The hall smells of cheap air freshener as Zayn approaches Louis' door. He looks around then knocks three times, letting the bag rest on the floor beside him. In no time he hears a rustling behind the door then some clicks. It's thrown open and then Louis appears, bright eyed and wearing short joggers and a sheer vest that steals Zayn's attention from the second he catches the tattoos through it.

"Ey, Zayn, you made it!" Louis announces with a smile. He tilts his head down then points. "What are those?"

Zayn looks at the bags and back up to Louis who's got an eyebrow raised high into his fringe. "I, uh– they're for you, actually. It's some food and snacks that I got from work that I thought you'd like."

Louis' eyes are still narrowed as he rubs his stubbled jaw. "And why did you bring me groceries exactly?"

"Because I figured you needed them. I don't know, it may be stupid assuming your life and whatever, but it just seemed like maybe you didn't have the money for them or.. something like that," Zayn finishes awkwardly. Leave it to him to misinterpret a situation this badly when it was all going so, so well.

"I mean, I haven't got a lot of pocket change, but.." Louis starts defensively but Zayn sees the slow drop of his shoulders then the small sign that leaves his lips. "Ah, fuck it. My job pays shit and whatever I do make goes for the rent. I've got a flat mate, Harry, so we split the grocery shopping between us but I never have the actual money to buy things, hence why I shamelessly steal. I couldn't accept any of this though. You paid for it with your hard earned money and I don't deserve any of it."

Zayn feels bad for the proud feeling in his chest about being right. Louis is obviously struggling but doesn't want to admit it or accept help so Zayn's going to have to think of some other tactic to get him to accept the food.

"I get a discount so it really wasn't a dent in the bank," Zayn shrugs.

"Doesn't matter. You're keeping all of it," Louis states firmly, clearly not being swayed by anything Zayn could say.

So, as a last resort, Zayn gives up. "Okay, you don't have to take them. But can I at least keep them in your place til I leave so they aren't sitting in my warm car?"

Louis nods quickly and steps back further from the door, leaving a wide space for Zayn to walk inside. "Of course, mate, yeah. Come on in."

He places the bags on an empty space on the counter of a kitchenette. The entire flat is on the smaller side.  The kitchen looks out to a square living room that holds a medium sized couch and a reasonable flat screen that was either a gift or a splurge gift between the men living here. There's a hallway to the right that Louis stands in, leaning against the wall and making a _c'mon_ motion with his hand.

"Alright, so about this photoshoot.." Louis starts as Zayn follows him to a door. "The theme was to capture the beauty of nature without taking pictures of anything outside which is really fucking cliché and difficult for me because I'm not bloody deep at all. So I thought, hey, why not get some flowers and a pretty boy inside my place and boom, the beauty of nature!"

Zayn's nodding along as Louis throws open the door and heads into a small office. There's a computer desk against one wall with school books and odd papers scattered upon it, a large window pulled open to expose a view of the building across the road, and a guitar case stood up in the far corner. There's also a single stool set on the other side of the room with a mound of flowers surrounding it.

"That's a decent idea for someone who claims to be uncreative," Zayn compliments.

Louis clicks his tongue and aims a grin at Zayn. "I claimed to not be deep, but I'd like to think I make up for it with my creativity. Honestly, you should _see_ some of the pranks I pull of my mates, especially Harry. There's always the downfalls to being friends with me."

"I look forward to the positive parts, thank you," Zayn smiles at Louis who just shakes his head and steps further into the room.

"Whatever you say, Zed." A nickname. Man, Zayn's making progress quick. 

Louis goes over and starts messing around with his fancy camera while Zayn stands back, silently watching. Louis’ eyebrows knit together in frustration and his jaw clenches and Zayn wants to roll his eyes at himself for being so entranced by such subtle movements. He’s not sure how he’s going to survive this photoshoot. With Louis any closer and staring at him with that intense look of concentration, Zayn may fall out on the spot.

For whatever reason, once they finally start setting up for the photoshoot, Louis asks Zayn to take his shirt off. It wasn’t formal, no logical explanation behind it. He just requests it out of the blue, stating that it would look more artsy. Zayn doesn’t oppose of course. Why would he? 

He whips off his simple white tee and awkwardly positions himself on the stool while Louis obviously glances back and forth between the gun on his hip and the wings below his collarbone. 

"You're just a bloody art canvas, aren't ya?" Louis laughs, soft and sincere.

"I like expression," Zayn shrugs. "You've got quite a bit of ink on you too. Who knows what else is hidden below those clothes."

He doesn't mean for it to come out as flirtatious. Honestly. It was supposed to be a somewhat mysterious comment about the tattoos to fit his external mysterious vibe, but that's blown now. Zayn becomes just as flustered as Louis once the words settle down and they avoid eye contact for a solid three seconds, which is a loss at any rate.

"I guess you'll have to wait and find out," Louis replies like he's reciting the weather forecast for Sunday. 

He still isn't looking at Zayn. His eyes are trained on his camera screen and it's well that way, too, because he doesn't catch Zayn biting his lip and drumming his fingers on the side of his thigh to prevent inappropriate thoughts of a bare Louis from surfacing.

When Louis crouches down and starts shoving a multitude of various flowers at Zayn to hold, the intimacy Zayn had feared before appears. During the placement of a white rose behind Zayn's ear, Louis' knuckles gently brush against his face. The touch is light and not too bothersome until Louis decides - for God knows what reason - to cup Zayn’s jaw and start pinning more flowers into his hair. Zayn’s breath stilts as Louis continues examining his head from different angles.

“Can you turn so your chest is getting hit by the light?” Louis asks, backing away. “Yeah, like that. Just look natural, and not the kind you see in the movies. I literally mean to just sit there and look around and scratch your arm if you need to. It doesn’t matter.”

Louis seems to go to another world when he holds the camera lens in front of his eye. He goes from mischievous and cunning to focused and quiet in an instant. It’s amazing to see. Zayn doesn’t know what to do himself, so he plays with the daisies in his lap and twists the thin stems around his fingers. He only allows himself to look at Louis two times, once subtly and once blatantly, to which he receives a small grin. 

He still isn’t sure how he feels about this photoshoot. Never before has he been the focus of anyone’s attention apart from speaking in class or having to sprint after a bus when he was a few seconds late once. His whole life, Zayn has hidden in the background and let others cast shadows over him, happily retreating to the shady areas they create to be alone with his close friends and wild thoughts. Now, he’s got a beautiful boy surrounding him with flowers and naming him a statement of natural beauty. Somehow it makes the camera seem less daunting when he knows the lovely enigma whose hands it rests in.

“How many pictures do you need?” Zayn questions after at least fifteen minutes have passed.

Louis sighs and flicks his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know, Zayn, how many times are you going to complain?”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he frowns.

“And I’m not done taking pictures,” Louis smiles so Zayn knows he’s being a dick in good spirits.

“Don’t be fooled, he’s just using you because he needs photos to wank over,” a third voice adds to the conversation.

They both turn to find some tall guy with long brown hair leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and a lazy dimpled grin on his face. He’s got on jeans with the knees stylishly ripped, vintage Reeboks, and a flannel that’s only buttoned to his belly button, exposing a multitude of torso tattoos. Zayn becomes as easily entranced by this figure as he was with Louis when he first saw him properly. 

“Oi, fuck off you bastard,” Louis quips fiercely. “You’re just upset that you turned down the offer to be on that stool first. It could be you I’m wanking over at night.”

“Actually, I’m _ace_ with not being photographed or wanked over,” the guy says, a dimple forming in his left cheek. “Catch the pun.”

Louis stares at him in confusion then lets his shoulders slump. “That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“I don’t get it,” Zayn chimes in.

Louis turns to him. “Oh, yeah, that’s my flatmate slash best mate Harry. He’s asexual and ace is the shortened version of the word.” Zayn mouths _oh_ and Louis waves at the air. “Don’t feel bad about not getting it at first. His jokes are terrible anyways.”

"Stop making him think bad of me," Harry retorts. He meets Zayn's stare. "I’m nice and hilarious.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Zayn says with a tiny laugh.

Harry performs an open-mouthed smile and look at Louis who rolls his eyes. “Are you done disturbing us now?”

“Oh, quit acting like you haven’t taken ten times the amount of photos you need by now. Let the boy live. You can’t pine over him like you did with me, I won’t let you.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Louis asks, clearly becoming agitated. “You were never like this before. Why did I have to corrupt you?”

“Because we’re _best friends_!” Harry exclaims with over dramatic excitement. 

“I hate you.”

“You love me. Love, love, love.”

“No I don’t.”

“He’s lying, Zayn. He loves me and he lo-”

“Okay, yeah, the photoshoot is over!” Louis starts saying loudly, cutting Harry off from whatever he was in the midst of exposing.

Zayn doesn’t know what to do or say honestly. Harry and Louis are bantering with each other as Louis puts his camera away and whips out the memory card. He watches as Louis goes over and grabs a single curl on Harry’s head, smiling at Zayn sweetly before dragging the taller boy out the door and down the hall, a quiet _ow ow ow_ trailing behind their stumbling bodies.

He picks the flowers out of his hair and off his body and stands up, letting all the blossoms fall to the floor with the rest. Now would be as good a time as any to put his shirt back on, so he does that. He cautiously walks out into the hall and sees Harry pinned underneath Louis on the couch. It's not sexual. At least, he hopes it isn't because Harry is laughing and thrashing around maniacally as Louis gives him death threats.

"Am I interrupting?" Zayn calls out with a smirk, knowing full and well that this whole ordeal is because of him.

"No, I’m done harassing him now,” Louis grunts, climbing off of Harry and falling back onto the couch. He smiles at Zayn, not minding Harry who is still slipping off the cushions and onto the floor in an awkward tangle of bent limbs.

“He’s just mad that I don’t have a love life for him to mess with.” Harry shrugs and sits up properly, crossing his legs and looking over at Louis. “You replace my shampoo with lube, I embarrass you in front of your lad friends. It’s fair.”

"Is it?" Louis asks petulantly.

"I think it is," Zayn supplies, receiving a thumbs up from Harry.

Light floods in from the den's large window and highlights the curl of Louis' lip. "You're teaming up against me now. Why can't I just like someone without things like th-" And he freezes. Zayn bites down a smirk while he watches Louis' crystal eyes widen and then snap to Harry. “That’s not what I meant.”

There’s a wave of quiet that floods the room. Zayn feels it, practically sees it engulfing Louis in the way his cheeks tint and he looks like the drastic opposite of the mysterious, dark creature that loomed the corner store every night when they were still strangers. Right now he looks like a schoolboy caught doodling his crush’s name on the side of his chemistry notes.

No one says anything. Louis frowns and pulls his knees up to his chest, rocking backwards into a frustrated ball. Harry seems to sense that something needs to be happening between Louis and Zayn, so he pushes himself up and winks at Zayn as he goes down the hall and shuts a door behind him. Zayn takes a breath and sits down beside Louis, surprised at first by how comfortable the sofa is considering the cheap look of it.

“I like you too,” he says hesitantly. Louis lets go of his legs and lets them fall down, splaying wide open in Zayn’s sightline. Breathe.

Louis’ eyes have lost their deadly gloss that was being used to intimidate Harry. Now what remains is a faded ring of silvery blue hope. “You do, huh?”

“Yeah,” Zayn laughs. “It’s not that big of a deal, is it?”

Louis lifts one shoulder lazily and drops it. “Not really I guess. I just would’ve preferred if Harry didn’t instigate me spilling it.”

“True, but, if I’m being honest, I prefer that to some ridiculous, sentimental proclamation of your love for me.” Louis snickers and Zayn can’t help but chuckle at himself. “Unorthodox is cool.”

“You talk so _fancy_ ,” Louis points out with a scrunched grin. “Fancy Zayn in his fancy white shirt using fancy words to impress the incredible Louis Tomlinson.”

He’s ridiculous. Absolutely the most narcissistic, irritating creature Zayn has ever had the honor of interacting with. Zayn has never been more endeared. 

“And here we were having our first semi-serious conversation,” Zayn tuts.

“Oh piss off. If anything comes out of this, you should know that I can’t handle being serious. I’ll either mock you, change the subject, or not talk at all.”

“I get high when I need to be serious,” Zayn admits. 

To Zayn’s surprise and amusement, Louis instantly sits up and exclaims that he does the same. So, yeah. Needless to say, Louis has a stash of a few joints in a small tupperware container that he brings out for the occasion. They face each other on the sofa and share one, literally chucking one at Harry when he comes back into the room and immediately says he’s going to have to buy new air freshener to get rid of the smell.

Zayn spends the rest of the evening there, getting high with Louis and his apparent new friend Harry. They bond over arguing about aliens being real (Louis and Zayn against Harry) and sharing stories of their wild teenage years. It finally feels like Zayn’s found a place where he belongs. Who would've guessed that all it would take is helping out a beautiful criminal and going to their flat to help them with their photography final. Why bother with caution or common decency or legality when there’s a chance at romance waiting at the end of it all?

By the time he decides he needs to go and stands up, Louis is clinging to him, laughing into Zayn’s shoulder and stroking his short hair. Harry is on the floor beside them mumbling about dolphins, having become an extreme animal rights activist after about ten minutes of smoking. 

“We didn’t get serious tonight,” Louis tells him quietly. “I think we may have to do this again. Maybe at your place next time even.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my neighbors would appreciate your obnoxious songs about Coco Pops.”

“They would. I’ll even send them a link to buy them on iTunes,” Louis laughs.

Zayn shakes his head and removes Louis’ grip on him. He faces the slightly smaller man and takes in the haziness of his eyes and the way there’s an extra long piece of fringe tracing his cheekbone and resting at the start of his jawline. He’s extremely thankful that Louis likes him because Zayn knows he would’ve remained friends with Louis, but he would’ve had to act like Louis isn’t a majestic creature. He wouldn’t be able to stare at every one of his features and openly imagine what they’ll look like once they’re placed in a new environment where the background is white bedsheets.

“I’m gonna go now,” Zayn starts.

“Suit yourself,” Louis mumbles.

“I’ll suit myself like the tattoo on your wrist,” Zayn teases.

Louis softly shoves a laughing Zayn away and shakes his head, pointing towards the door. “Out. And take Haz with you. Thanks for your participation in my project and all, but I've got no use for you anymore."

"How can pretty boys be so cruel," Zayn frowns. He's getting risqué with the flirting but if the way Louis blinks slowly and licks his lips is anything to go by, it's not entirely a bad thing.

"It is what it is," Louis says slowly. 

It was probably unintentional, but Zayn catches the way Louis adds on to the tattoo joke. So he smiles and actually heads towards the door now, Louis' steps trailing close behind. He opens the door and turns to look at Louis one last time. "Have a nice night, Lou."

"Same to you, Zed." Louis is grinning again now, a small quirk of his lips to match the soft gaze in his eye. Everything about him is so soft once you break through the sharp, defensive exterior. It's only taken Zayn a few hours to notice this. He wonders what else he'll discover along the way on this treacherous path of their budding relationship.

Once they're eyes disconnect behind the wooden door, Zayn let's himself smile fully for the first time today. He takes a deep breath and grins widely down at his feet as he waits for the elevator, his thoughts flooded with tidbits of Louis from the icy colour of his eyes to the way his canines become exposed every time he laughs. It's unhealthy– practically unprecedented – how fast Louis barges into Zayn's life, taking over his mind and sending shocks through his veins at the smallest touch or smile. 

Zayn loves it.

 

▲ ▼

 

Being back at the shop on Thursday knowing that no excitement is around the corner puts a drab on Zayn's mood. Normally he has something to look forward to, a game to play, an act to put up. As it goes, that's gone now and it's very saddening, but then again, he gets to play the game almost everyday now, so. It's a double sided situation.

He pushes through the front door and is greeted by an Irish accent which belongs to the new guy, Niall. Zayn completely forgot about having to be bird-watched by the blonde during his shift tonight. It actually makes him feel less miserable and tired after his four hour nap.

"Hello, mate," Zayn nods, leaning onto his palms in front of Niall, who stands on the other side of the counter.

"Shouldn't you be workin' at a tattoo parlor or or one of those Top Shops around here? You look fucking bad ass," Niall comments, making Zayn laugh and glance down at his colourful forearm.

"Nah. I would, just to boost my reputation, but I'm not good at talking to people. And this place pays about the same if not more anyways, so," he finishes with a shrug. 

"At least you're honest," Niall smiles. "In it for the money. Aren't we all?"

"If you aren't, you're a dirty liar," Zayn agrees.

He makes his way around the counter and whips out a fresh new magazine from the stand. This time he settles with a classier one about fashion. Celebrity gossip has worn old and truth be told, he's not that interested in cars, cooking, or women in bikinis. Brushing up on his style skills is far more important than any of those topics.

"So what do I do then if you're just gonna read?" Niall asks, messing with a loose receipt hanging out of the machine. 

“Unless you want to sit around, twiddle your thumbs, and stare at me doing nothing for a few hours, I’d suggest doing some stocking. There’re some boxes in the back I think. Just start sorting them out and let me know when you’re done,” Zayn instructs.

“You gonna help at all?” Niall asks with a raised brow.

Zayn laughs and shakes his head. “I was a stocker when I first started. You have to work towards this position. My days of doing anything but ringing up candy bars and handing Playboy magazines to shady old men are long gone now.”

“Fuck, you’re really living the high life, aren’t ya?” 

“Absolutely,” Zayn says with a satisfied smile.

Niall gets off to work then. Zayn directs him to where the goods should be and watches in amusement as Niall starts grumpily shoving drinks into their proper slots. He figures he can get along easily with Niall. It’s not like he has a choice though, because why should he bother disliking the one person he’s going to have to socialize with from here on out?

There’s some top twenty pop song from 2005 playing quietly overhead. Zayn bops his head along to it, flipping pages leisurely. A few teenagers come in asking Zayn to give them some cigarettes and he takes great joy in crushing their dreams with a threat to call the police and a tip to not snicker while asking. They offer him a wide range of curse words and mumbled insults and Zayn just waves them off, looking up at Niall who’s standing in the crisp aisle laughing with his eyes squeezed shut.

“That happen often?” Niall asks him once he’s calmed down.

“Surprisingly not, but it’s _great_ when it does,” Zayn replies.

As soon as the air has settled again and the only sounds that remain in the shop are crinkling bags and the faint radio, something disturbs the peace. The front door is shoved open, the bell ringing brightly. Zayn’s head snaps up at the entrance and when he immediately finds himself grinning, he tries his hardest to bite it down. 

“Give me all your money!” An incredibly familiar voice yells, pacing towards the counter with his small hands folded into the shape of a gun. A black Adidas hoodie engulfs his body and Zayn has the desire to call him Shifty, just for old time’s sake. “Hurry the fuck up!”

“Do you take debit? Credit?” Zayn asks sarcastically.

Blue eyes full of mischief squint at him. “Are you getting smart with me?”

“Of course not, Shifty,” and yes, he did it. The old times of last month have returned. 

Louis breaks character quicker than Zayn would’ve liked. He starts chuckling and tries to bury his face in his shoulder. “Dammit. I’m ruining it.”

“Just a little,” Zayn smirks, folding his arms.

“No, no,” Louis says. “That’s not what I mean.”

Zayn becomes slightly confused. “What are you talking about then?”

He gets no response. It’s like time slows down as soon as the last word rolls off his tongue. Louis meets his gaze and promptly pushes himself up onto the counter, standing and taking a step before sitting down right in front of Zayn. Zayn is in shock, staring into Louis’ deep seas of eyes. When Louis’ calves bend and bring Zayn in closer, he moves, but it’s not a cognitive motion. It just sort of.. happens.

Which is the same way that the next moment happens. Zayn obviously knows what’s happening, knows that there’s only one possible thing a situation like this could lead to, but it still takes him by surprise when Louis ducks his head forward and places their lips together. There’s an initial spark before it quickly melts into something sweeter. 

_Is this happening?_ Zayn wonders. _Surely not. Louis isn’t here. He’s not sitting on a counter in my work with his legs wrapped around my waist, kissing me. Of course not._

But, as it happens, Louis _is_ real. It’s happening. Their lips move together in a slow pace, very little tongue involved, but just enough for them both to be content. Louis tastes like mint and faintly smoke, as though he tried to hide it by chewing a single piece of gum. He should be disappointed to know that it didn’t work but pleased to hear that Zayn loves this combination more than he should.

By the time Zayn lowers the hood from Louis’ head to tangle his fingers in his long hair, their pace is slowing down. Louis pulls back, letting a single finger trace Zayn’s jawline. He’s smiling softly. The electricity in Zayn’s veins sparks up at the sight.

“You make me want to do great romantic gestures. It’s terrible,” Louis sighs, still so close that Zayn feels the exhale.

“So can I expect you to surprise me with kisses during every shift now, or will you send a bouquet of all the leftover flowers from our photoshoot to my house one night?” Zayn wonders aloud.

“Whatever you want. Just don’t return the favor or I’ll kill you. Only I can be soft here,” Louis smiles. 

“Suit yourself,” Zayn laughs.

Louis shakes his head happily at the inside joke. “By the way, I know what you did with those groceries. Sneaky. Asking to keep them in my flat then getting me high so I would forget to give them back. Very, very sneaky indeed.”

Zayn scratches his neck and looks away. “Yeah, well, I had to do something, didn’t I?”

“I said I didn’t need them you bloody idiot,” Louis scolds nicely.

“But you did and you know it. I just wanted to help out,” Zayn replies innocently. Louis gives him a look and Zayn sighs. “I know you want to be independent and all, so I won’t do it again, alright? But don’t think I won’t bring you bags of gummies still. And while I’m at it, I can give you my discount so we aren’t criminals anymore.”

This seems to ease Louis’ nerves. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Let’s do that. But in the meantime..”

They start leaning back in for another kiss. There’s a field of unsettled air between them now and Zayn is determined to stir it up some more. He holds Louis’ head in place and bends down but before they make contact, a forgotten Niall speaks up.

“Do I have to work towards getting that too?” He calls out gleefully, standing in the back with a large box in his arms.

Louis startles and whips his head around to see who’s there as Zayn let’s out a genuine cackle. “Shit, I didn’t know anyone else was here. Who the fuck are you?”

“Niall, Zayn’s new coworker, pleasure to meet ya,” Niall nods at Louis. “So Zayn, when do I get a pretty lady kissing me passionately on the countertop?”

“Just play your cards right and go with your gut,” Zayn answers like this is a serious conversation. Maybe it is in a way, though. He isn’t sure. Louis is definitely a serious subject, but he’s in a lovestruck haze right now. “That’s all I did and it gave me more than I could ask for.”

Louis slowly cranes his neck back and Zayn’s heart stutters when he sees the wide smile on Louis’ face and the way his eyes are scrunched with the force of it. “Partners in crime for life.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! i _greatly_ encourage you to leave comments and give kudos. it means a lot :)


End file.
